


have you seen me lately

by mostlikelydefinentlymad



Series: the way you said I love you [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Raphael Santiago Has Feelings, Simon Lewis Lives at Hotel Dumort, of gravestones and sentimental vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-17
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-02-03 11:04:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12747042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostlikelydefinentlymad/pseuds/mostlikelydefinentlymad
Summary: "When you died," Raphael says, after a moment's reflection, "there was no monument to mark your death aside from six feet of hollowed out earth. A hole in the ground. After while the dirt filled in and blood soaked into the soil as though you were never here."He palms the smooth surface reverently."You were reborn here, Simon. It should be honored."PROMPT #28: when I'm dead





	have you seen me lately

 

 

"You bought me a gravestone."

The initials  _S.L._ adorn a stone tablet with a glossy grayish black exterior. Written underneath in neat Hebrew letters reads:  _Beloved Son and Brother._ The star of David has been engraved upon it. 

When Raphael said he had something to show him, Simon hadn't expected cemetery gates. He'd asked a million questions as they passed the graves of strangers and Raphael shushed him out of respect for the dearly departed. He'd stopped talking altogether when they'd entered the Jewish section.

The stone sits in a square plot of land near the back by itself. Unlike many of the others, his isn't canopied by a tree. It has a clear view of the night sky overhead. It's beautiful in a macabre way and Raphael has obviously devoted a considerable amount of time and money to choosing this plot and stone in particular. 

More than anything,  _sentiment._

"When you died," Raphael says, after a moment's reflection, "there was no monument to mark your death aside from six feet of hollowed out earth. A hole in the ground. After awhile the dirt filled in and blood soaked into the soil as though you were never here."

He palms the smooth surface reverently. 

"You were reborn here, Simon. It should be honored."

Simon kneels and collects a handful of the very dirt Raphael speaks of. He'd always thought of this place in terms of death and grief. Impure soil that absorbed life and spit out a monster. The last time he was here, it had grown moist with blood and tears.

He'd  _ran._  

"It's Emerald Pearl," Raphael went on, "Imported from Norway."

 _Monster,_  Simon had called himself. 

In the 1500's, the word meant:  _a person of inhuman cruelty or wickedness,_ but monsters don't feel warm inside when the person they care about pays homage to a God they cannot even speak of. They don't get to be loved by soft boys with black eyes that know the blood and bite of them and stick around.

Tonight, with the moon hanging low in the clouds and the late Winter frost on the ground Simon doesn't feel like he's lost the part of him that makes him human.  

It's multiplied within him and carven in stone.  

He is not a loss.

He is not a monster.   

If he could will his mouth to speak, he'd thank Raphael for showing him the honor rather than the shame in surviving a death such as theirs. The love that grows long after the earth has forgotten it ever held him. He would tell Raphael that he has found the answer to love. The meaning.

It's not rooted in a childhood crush, chalk line initials or ginger hair.

It's quiet declarations that make eternity and dried flowers worth it. 

It's standing and taking Raphael's hand, intertwining their fingers. Callused artist fingers to slender tanned skin. 

He closes the few inches between them and takes Raphael's other hand. 

Their chests brush and this- _this_ is another life he has been given. His heart is a silent drumbeat but he has a family that doesn't care if he left it six feet into the darkest night. He has a home and someone in his world who cares enough to pay his respects to what was and never will be again. 

 

 _Love_ is a boy who protected Simon in a sunlit room, knowing one ray of light could end it all. He knows that now. 

 

Up close, he is surrounded and intoxicated by everything that makes up Raphael Santiago. 

The dark lashes on his cheeks as he shuts his eyes and let's Simon take over. The  _scent_ of him. The clean smell of pomade in his hair, the surprisingly sweet undertone of his blood in combination with a natural woodsy scent.

How his lips are impossibly pink and his eyes darken in the night-- 

 Their first kiss is messy and clumsy and Simon's eagerness means his mouth lands half on the other's cheek and lips but Raphael's eyes are closed when he breaks it. He's _enjoying_ it. He shudders and slowly opens them.  

Almost immediately, his gaze drops to Simon's mouth.

He licks his lips and Simon catches a longing whisper of his name before Raphael splays a hand on the nape of his neck and hauls him down. This kiss isn't hesitant or unsure.  It's the peak of a  _craving._

Simon moans into Raphael's mouth and slides his hands over the silky texture of his jacket and under to gather Raphael closer. He has never felt so dizzy and drunk on another person, so undone. It's a soul deep connection that glows brighter with every stroke of Raphael's tongue and caress of his hands - on Simon's neck, in his hair, dragging down past his shirt sleeves to lace their fingers together.

The taste of Raphael's kiss, the scent of him, the cool night air on Simon's skin, the slight height difference that makes Raphael's head tilt back to expose his throat. It's  _amazing._

When their lips part, Simon nuzzles Raphael's nose lovingly. Kissing him is a necessity now and so they trade soft innocent kisses that make Raphael smile. 

"I love you," Simon whispers in the hush of the cemetery. 

"You love me."

"No, this is the part where you say: I love you back."

Raphael smirks with a teasing glint in his eye. "I love you back, Simon," he echoes. 

"You know that's gonna be a Thing now, right?"

Raphael groans.

Simon is standing at the foot of his own grave,  _laughing_ with the love of his life in his arms. The love of his life who takes mushy to a whole new and darker level. Oh and he's dead. _They're_ dead.

Maybe Clary saving him was the best gift she could've ever given him. 

"I really like the stone," he murmurs.

He hugs Raphael against his body and peppers his temple and forehead with tiny kisses. "I was thinking we could visit this place once a year or something. On my birthday maybe?" It feels cathartic, like making amends with a part of himself he hadn't realized he'd hated. 

Raphael nods and brings Simon's wrist to his lips. 

"Anytime," he says.  

* * *

 

The sun will shine on the stone tomorrow, giving a part of Simon the warmth that he cannot take for himself.

And the moon -- the moon will remember a night of blood and tears and an unmarked grave. 

She will also remember a first kiss and a stone where there was once nothing. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I edited this fic a thousand times and I'm still not happy with it but I'm posting it anyway. hope it was worth it, yikes. as always, thank you for taking the time to read it ❤


End file.
